


Downpour in Cairo

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Another Chance at the Brass Ring, or Season 9 Fan Fiction [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Normal Life, Alternate Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Being a Prophet Sucks, Brotherly Estrangement, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Crocotta, Destiel - Freeform, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friendly Freaks, Gen, Guardian Monsters, Het, Hunters, In Tandem, Kelpie - Freeform, M/M, Mild Language, Monster of the Week, Murder Most Foul, Oral Sex, Revelation is a Bitch, Samodge, Sex, Slash, Vampires, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:58:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodies are dropping along the Missouri River, reviving an old hunter's case that spans back over fifty years. The Winchesters face off with a force that seems to be haunting the river itself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soul on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** : Through episode 08x20 Pac-Man Fever

**Boonville, Missouri**. Grace Eggers swallowed her fear. All she had to do was stay out in the woods for a whole night, alone. By tomorrow morning, she'd be part of the team, a member, not just another player. 

The trouble was the location.

The area outside the riverfront was notorious for its odd events, and the forest adjacent to the river had its own legends. Grace remembered the old story of Johnny Steel Key, the mad serial killer that drown his victims by weighing them down with steel and throwing them into the river. The fact that Johnny Steel Key lived hundreds of years ago did not make her feel better. His was just one of the half-dozen other ghost stories floating around these woods.

Her heart started to pound rapidly. Grace took a deep breath. She had to remain calm. Ghost stories scared children, but she was almost sixteen now. It was time to grow up.

A whining noise derailed her thoughts. It was coming from the woods, and her curiosity drew her to it. She stumbled over roots but kept moving forward. She knew that noise, she had grown up with it.

A beautiful horse whined near the woods. From the way its eyes darted this way, then that, Grace guessed it had some kind of injury. Why else would this handsome creature be hold up out here, unbridled and lost? Only a handful of locals could care for a horse like this. She had to lead it back home.

Whispers from her youth cascaded around her. Beware Timmy Noose, another old story she'd heard a hundred times. His horse waited by the river at night for someone foolish enough to approach. Once the victim got on, good old Timmy Noose would wrap a rope around the person's neck and hang them from the nearest tree. The last thing that person would ever see was Timmy Noose's horse running out from under them and into the night, leaving them hanged. 

Grace soothed her thoughts. Tommy Noose was a stupid story, while the horse in front of her was certainly real. She approached slowly because she didn't want to startle it. 

"Hey there," she said. "I'm Grace. I'm just gonna make sure you're okay."

The horse had no trouble with Grace touching its neck, its nose, even its ears. Something about the stallion - and now that she was up close Grace could tell this one was a stallion – seemed so familiar. 

She didn't even think about it. She knew better, of course. Good riders don't just try to ride any random horse bareback, but she didn't care. In a single fluid movement, Grace was atop the chestnut steed.

She always loved galloping. Her family didn't have enough money for her to keep regular riding lessons, but when she scraped together enough for a few hours, she'd find some time to go to the nearby mounted troop and do nothing but gallop.

This was just like those afternoons on horseback, but a hundred times better. The darkness and the wind in tandem felt like lift under wings; when Grace closed her eyes, she could imagine she was flying – 

Freezing cold enveloped her while her lungs burned with acid. She opened her eyes, and they stung and ached. She was underwater. She looked up. She couldn't see the surface. She must be fathoms-deep by now.

That couldn't be right. The Missouri River didn't have that much depth. She tried to swim to the surface, but all the strength was gone from her body. Her breath disappeared, her head spun, and her blood solidified as she drifted down, and down, and down...

 

"That can be an unfortunate choice," Cas said.

"I hit you in the face," Kevin replied. "Seems a good one to me."

"Unless of course I was a vampire or a werewolf or some person who would take no mind in such a strike."

The angel clasped his right hand around Kevin's elbow and his left hand around the Prophet's fist. Castiel mimed biting down on his wrist. Kevin quickly freed his elbow.

"By then I would have bitten through your arty," Cas replied. "If you attack with a spinning back fist, you must pull back. Or deliver an additional strike."

"Okay, okay. Let me try those nerve strikes you showed me."

"Very well."

Kevin practiced hitting the nerves of the forearm, upper arm, and neck. His aim had improved dramatically in the three days since he'd learned them. He missed the nerves in the legs, but he hit the right areas in the torso.

"Very good," Castiel said. "Except for the strikes in the leg."

"Damnit."

"I believe the problem is your stance."

"Come again?"

"You're bending over to strike at the leg. This is nonsensical. If you were in a real fight, you wouldn't do that. You would either be beneath the attacker somehow, or on one knee."

"People don't fight on one knee," Kevin replied.

"Actually, in many human cultures, being down on one knee is the traditional fighting stance of the shaman," Cas remarked. "Obviously, that is not entirely comparable to being a Prophet – "

"Shamans? Down on one knee? Really?"

Castiel shrugged. "Try the strikes on one knee."

Kevin did as instructed and managed to buckle Castiel's left leg. 

"Very good."

"Am I interrupting something?" Dean asked from the doorway.

"Cas is just showing me some self defense," Kevin said before the angel could say anything.

"Aha," Dean said. "Kev, you don't have to do this – "

"I asked him to show me," Kevin cut Dean off. "I want to be able to defend myself."

"Right, okay," Dean said. "Cas, a word?"

"Oh, by the way, I found a case," Kevin said. "It's laid out in the war room."

"I thought that was Sam?" Dean asked.

"No, Sam mentioned something in the area, but whatever's happening out there has been going for like fifty years."

Castiel followed Dean out into the war room.

"What the hell? He's a Prophet, a kid, not a warrior," Dean said loudly to the angel. "All of a sudden he's working out, practicing Judo and boxing?"

"His past encounters with evil forces made it clear that danger exists for him," Cas replied. "And he read Chuck Shurley's books."

Dean scowled. "How did he even get those?"

"Charlie."

"Of course."

"Dean, Chuck might not have had a perfect life, but he lived in the world. He didn't hide."

"He didn't know!"

"But even when he did know, he didn't have to hide. Nothing could harm him. I believe Kevin wants the life Chuck had."

Dean felt like he was talking to a wall, and a stupid wall at that. "Chuck lived in squalor, couldn't keep a friend or relationship, and drank so much his liver threatened to move out. Kevin wants that life?"

"No," Cas replied calmly. "Kevin wants to live in a house with an address. He wants to be able to call his mother. He wants – to be a person as much as he is a Prophet. If nothing else, his ability to defend himself can help him evade capture."

"He's evading capture by staying here."

"He can't be here till the day he dies," the angel replied. 

"He won't have to. Once we figure out this Lucifer and Paimon thing – "

"I believe you said he would have a normal life after you and Sam closed the Gates of Hell."

"Well, that was – "

"True. At the time," Cas replied. "But the fact is, even if all the supernatural elements of the world failed to reach Kevin, human violence can still happen."

"He shouldn't have to do this."

"I agree, but he doesn't have to. He simply wishes to. I believe that is why he helped identify this case as well. He wants to help you as you have helped him."

The angel waved his arm over to the enormous case laid out in the war room. Strange deaths occurred across Missouri, all near the river. For the past fifty years, bodies have dropped either headless or drowned. Hunters had gone there over and over again, and each time a different monster was taken down. But the pattern still persisted. 

"Kevin did this?" Dean asked.

"He is a marvelous Man of Letters," Cas said proudly. 

"Yeah, we should open a branch at Princeton for him."

"What?" Cas asked, the familiar look of confusion blooming on his face.

"Never mind."

"You seem agitated, and not about Kevin's sudden interest in hunting or the martial arts."

"You weren't in bed last night, or this morning," Dean said, attempting to work the non-sequitur angle and failing. 

"Having no need to sleep – "

"That's not the point."

"You asked me to watch over Kevin and Dodge," Cas replied in confusion. "So periodically I have to go to ensure I am fully aware of their location."

"Never mind."

"No."

Dean shifted his weight and stared Cas down. "Drop it."

The angel invaded Dean's space, crowding him, which only geared up Dean's alpha male response. His entire body tensed, and he stood his ground.

"If fighting is the only method of obtaining any honest information from you, then fight. But I prefer you just tell me," the angel said. His voice was remarkably calm for a man standing literally nose-to-nose with another.

"Cas – " 

Dean started angry, but the truth was, he was tired. The first few days of fighting and make-up sex were oddly blissful, but all Dean wanted was to wake up next to the man he loved. He didn't want to say those words out loud. Part of him wished he could telepathically zap them to Castiel. 

"Is it too much to ask for you to stay in bed? Or to be there in the morning?" he asked. 

"No, of course not," Cas replied. "But I was under the impression that you didn't want me there."

The angel's remark made Dean jerk backwards in surprise. He asked, "What're you talking about?"

"You take all the blankets," Cas replied. "And you roll towards me, then away from me, sometimes you spread out diagonally across the bed."

"Cas, man, do you know what it's like when humans sleep?"

"It's a multi-phase state that ranges from complete consciousness to unconsciousness and often bridges the liminal space – "

"No, no, no," Dean said, waving his hand. "I mean the experience? People do all kinds of crap in their sleep, Cas. Some people snore. Some people kick. Some drool."

"So you're saying this is akin to your tendency to take all the blankets?"

"I don't do that."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You seem to be suggesting that drooling, snoring, and kicking is all done outside of the control of the sleeper."

"That's what I'm saying."

"And that the sleeper has no memory of said events."

"For the most part – "

"So while you do not remember taking the blankets, I assure you, you do. Every night."

"My point is," Dean said, "it doesn't mean I don't want you there."

"Am I interrupting?" Kevin asked. 

Kevin had actually arrived in the room several minutes earlier, but he waited for a window to appear. He was learning a lot more than he wanted to about Dean Winchester, cover hog.

"Kev, what's up?" Dean asked.

"What do you think about the case?"

"I can see why Sam went out on this one."

"Actually," Kevin said, "he didn't go out on a case. I was originally looking for any possible hunter's haunts."

"You mean like Ellen's place? The Roadhouse?"

"Yeah, Sam told me about it, and I thought there might be a few more out there. I didn't find any, but there were a few old safe houses mentioned in the archives."

"So Sam went out to check out a safe house?" Dean asked.

"They went to Arrow Rock," Cas said.

"Sorry, what?" 

Kevin replied, "It's been abandoned for years, so he said he'd need a hand to fix it up. He took Dodge with him."

"We have the Badlands cabin," Dean interrupted. "We don't need another."

"Benny Lafitte currently uses that cabin," the angel pointed out. "And Sam was concerned you might need another safe house in the future."

"How does Dodge figure into this?" Dean asked.

"She offered to assist him," Cas replied.

"Anyway," Kevin interrupted. "This case goes back decades. Incidents all around the same stretch of the Missouri River. Lots of dead bodies."

"What're these?" Dean asked, pointing out red tacs.

"Hunters keep going there, killing things," Kevin explained. "Garth helped me. That's where they killed off whatever it was, a vampire or a Rugaru or something."

"So, maybe this is just your basic monster mash?" Dean said. "Gotta be a pretty good hunting ground for monsters."

"I believe Kevin is saying this case has been presumed solved many times before," Cas interrupted. 

"Good catch Kev," Dean said. "Any ideas what it could be?"

"Leaves headless or drowned bodies," Kevin said. "Other than that, I'm not sure."

"Okay, I'll head out to help Sam... and Dodge, I guess."


	2. In the Rain

**Arrow Rock, Missouri**. Sam had been awake for over an hour, but he had no inclination to get up. Dodge was stretched out across his chest, soundly sleeping for the first time in over a week. 

They had driven out here to fix up a hunter's cottage, but Dodge had a vision yesterday about a drowning. He knew that if he searched, he'd find a case, and he didn't want a case right now. He wanted just a few days without blood, death, or firearms.

The cottage Kevin found previously belonged to some distant relative of the Campbell family. Bobby had apparently used it after a particularly bad situation with local police in Wisconsin, but from what Sam could tell, no one had bothered with the place for about a decade. As much as he wanted another safe house, it'd be a pipe dream to repair this one, so he had to scrap the idea. 

That didn't mean they couldn't spend a few days out here together. 

Dodge woke up. She followed her morning ritual. As soon as her eyes opened, her body tensed and she assessed the situation. They were in a single-bed motel room with a drab mute-green color theme. Her gun was on the nightstand, easily within reach. And she was in bed with – 

Her body relaxed as her eyes met Sam's.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning."

"How long've you been awake?"

"Not long."

"You're a terrible liar in the morning."

"I guess."

Dodge leaned in and gave him a soft kiss. He pulled her up slightly, deepening the kiss.

"I'm gonna go brush my teeth," she whispered.

Sam watched as Dodge got out of bed and headed over to the bathroom. He couldn't remember the last time he woke up so happy. Maybe a few years ago, when he was with Amelia? No, his relationship with her was rockier than it ever had been with Jess, which was – whoa, was that really ten years ago?

Sam loved that Dodge knew about hunters. He never had to lie to her about it. But then again, she was an FBI Agent, and he witnessed personally how dangerous her job was back in Chicago when a serial killer threw her off a fifteen-story parking garage. Even without the supernatural world, her life was on the line. 

He felt guilty because part of him was happy that her visions made her too sick to wield her badge.

A clatter of fallen objects echoed from the bathroom.

"Dodge?" Sam said as he ran to her.

She had fallen against the bathroom wall; her eyes were elsewhere. Another vision, certainly. Sam reached out for her and held her upright, waiting for it to pass.

 

 **Boonville, Missouri**. "Agent Page," Dean said, flashing his newest FBI badge at the local officer. "I'm here about the drowning victim."

"Eggers, Grace," the officer replied mechanically without looking up from his computer. "Sheriff Doris Hovey has that case. Three doors down to the left."

Dean followed the instructions and came to a medium-sized office with a middle-aged woman behind the desk.

"Sheriff Hovey?" Dean asked.

"You can put the report in the inbox on the door," she said, not looking up. "And I'll – " She cut her words short when Dean caught her eye. "You're not Ted from forensics."

"No, I am not. Agent Page," Dean replied.

"Sorry," Hovey said, walking over to shake Dean's hand. "Sheriff Doris Hovey."

"Nice to meet you."

"To be honest, I'd rather not have this case," Hovey said, going back to her desk. "Eggers was a good kid."

"I was told her body was found in the river," Dean said. "That she drown around two am last night. Any reason a good kid would be out in the woods so late?"

"Well, I can't prove it," Hovey replied, "but a lot of sports teams do hazing rituals this time of year."

"Okay, have you spoken to the next of kin yet?"

"Notified them, yes. Did the basic prelim: any enemies, any signs of recent depression or indicators of suicide."

"And?"

"And a whole lot of resentment and nothing," Hovey replied. 

"You have the coroner's report?"

"No, sorry, the coroner said Ted would drop it by, but he hasn't yet. I'm sure they're ready down at the morgue."

"Right, thanks," Dean said as he exited. 

He passed the robotic officer at the front desk and took out his phone. "Sam," he said. "I'm in Boonville, Missouri and we've gotta case."

"Drowning?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. Wait, Kev told me you and Dodge came out to fix up a safe house."

"We did. She had a vision, though. Two, actually."

"Huh," Dean replied. "Little strange, her having a vision of a case in the immediate area."

"I guess. How did you get onto it?"

"Kev," Dean replied. "Said he found a pattern in the old hunter's journals going back about fifty years. I thought I'd check it out, and what-dya-know? New body dropped two nights ago."

"We're about a half hour from you," Sam said. "You good to meet me at the coroner's? Have you seen the body yet?"

"No, that's my next stop. I'll see you there."

 

Dean waited outside the morgue. When he saw Sam's Dodge Ram pull in, no one was in the passenger seat, and Dean immediately felt relieved. Dodge would not be joining them on this case, at least.

"I was kinda hoping there'd be no case," Sam said by way of greeting.

"So, what? Your plan was just to come out, fix up a cottage, have a little love shack?"

Sam's skin turned crimson, and he hesitated to respond.

"No, hell no!" Dean barked, pulling Sam around so they were face-to-face. "Seriously? Out of all the women in the world? You pick an FBI Agent?"

"Isn't the coroner waiting for us?" Sam said, ignoring Dean's question.

They walked into the building, following the signs till they reached the office of JERRY HYATT, as the door read. Dean knocked. 

"Come in," Jerry said from beyond the door.

Jerry's office was more of a scientific display area than a business office. All the odd items distracted Dean.

Jerry walked them down the hall to the morgue proper. He said, "Glad you're here. This one's really weird, and I'm not sure I wanna be the one to explain it."

"Weird how?" Sam asked.

"Well, sure thing it's a drowning," Jerry said, turning the corner. "But she was found a few hours after death, not a scratch on her, and, uh, missing her heart and lungs."

"Without a cut on her? How?" Dean asked.

"Best guess? They were somehow pulled out through the throat. Obviously not in tact."

"How much damage to the esophageal area?" Sam asked.

"A lot. Beats me how they did it without causing damage to the skin," Jerry said. 

They finally got to the morgue, and Jerry pulled out the slab with Grace Egger's remains. 

"Anything else?" Sam asked. "Did she struggle?"

"There are no indicators that she was held down, but since there were no external injuries associated with the missing internal organs, I'm letting myself remain skeptical."

"What about the bruises on her legs?" Dean asked, pointing to the purple-red marks down her inner thighs and knees. "You don't think that's related to her death?"

"Gracie used to ride horses from time to time," Jerry replied. "Sometimes you get bruises when you ride, and that's exactly where."

"Sorry, did you know her?"

"Small town, and she grew up here," Jerry replied. "And I ride horses myself."

"How recent was the bruising?" Sam asked.

"Sorry?"

"How close to time of death did she get the bruises?" Sam asked.

"Same day, I imagine."

"If she was gonna ride a horse around here, where would she go?" Sam asked.

"Uh, well, there's a mounted troop over in Arrow Rock," Jerry said. "And a few privately owned stables in the general area. I don't know if she had a preference."

"Can you get us that information?" Sam asked. 

"For the stables?" Jerry asked.

"It will help us establish a timeline," Dean lied. 

"Very well. I'll just be a few minutes."

As Jerry walked away, Sam asked, "Oh, where are her organs?"

"Over here," Jerry said, waving his arm at the steel refrigerator door. 

Sam went over to see the organs. Dean examined her fingernails and face. Everything seemed so pristine. 

"Brain is intact," Sam said. "And there's damage to some of the other internal organs."

"So, what drowns then slurps your insides-out?" Dean asked. "And apparently is picky about it."

"Dunno," Sam said as he came back to the body. "But Dodge said that the girl was riding a horse right before she drown."

"Ah, of course, if Dodge says so, it must be true," Dean commented bluntly.

"I say we check into the horses, let Cas and Kev check into anything that yanks stuff out through the throat," Sam suggested. 

Dean rolled his eyes but made no protest. Jerry returned with a list. 

"Here you go, agents," he said, "hope this helps."

"It does, thank you," Sam said. 

"Just one more question," Dean said. "You said she was found floating down river. Who found her?"

"Early morning jogger I think," Jerry said. "Called it in. Sheriff fished her out."

 

"You wanna split up and check out these stables? There're only three and the mounted troop, " Sam said as they got out into the parking lot.

"No," Dean said. "I'm gonna go talk to the girl's parents."

"Okay, but after will you check out one of the – "

"No," Dean interrupted. 

"Why not?"

"Because the girl rode horses, so maybe she rode the day she died. Doesn't mean it has anything to do with this case." 

"Except that Dodge's vision – "

"No," Dean said. "I'm gonna work this case like a real case. I'm not chasing around visions hoping they suddenly make sense."

"Really? Because last time her visions helped us save five people," Sam pointed out. 

Dean shook his head and walked away. Sam steeled his resolve and followed him to the Impala.

Sam said, "Dean, Dodge is the first woman I've liked since Amelia. And unlike Amelia, she knows about the life. She knows the risks, and – she's actually really great."

"Really great?" Dean repeated with no attempt to hide his skepticism.

"Yeah, you two would get along if you gave her a shot," Sam said. "She even likes the same beer – "

"Is that why all my beer ran dry?"

"That's not the point, Dean!" Sam said. "I get it, you don't know her, you don't really trust her. But, come on, two weeks ago she proved to Cas and Kevin that she's all-in."

"You mean because of her seizure-causing visions?" Dean asked. "Nah, not enough."

"Then what is?"

"I dunno, Sam. But I do know that you hid your relationship with this woman from me for months – "

"We weren't in a relationship back then – "

"I mean before, when you were getting cases from her. How many cases did we work from her without me knowing?"

"One, maybe two – "

"Like I said, you hid that from me, so you must've known that it was a bad idea."

"No, Dean, I just knew you didn't want to work with her. It took me long time to trust her, too, okay? But over time, she proved to me that she's trustworthy. And our friend – "

"More than a friend," Dean muttered bitterly.

"Fine, never mind. Let's just work the damn case. I'll check out all the stables," Sam said. "Call me if you find anything at the parents."

 

Dodge never handled being left behind well, even though she understood that being out in the field was too risky. Not only did her visions constantly impede her daily life, but also riding around with two people impersonating FBI Agents was just plain reckless.

That didn't change the fact that she had to be left behind while Sam and his brother worked on a case.

She pulled out her laptop and her tape recorder. She had gotten into the habit of dictating her visions, or as much as she could remember, then typing them up. There wasn't any good reason for it, but without cases of her own to work on, it was all she really had to keep her hands busy.

 

Dean did plan on talking with the victim's parents, but before he did that, he needed to have a little heart-to-heart with Sam's new girlfriend. He peeked through the window and saw her at her computer, typing something. She even had a freaking recorder out! He wanted to see how she could explain this one.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam asked.

He swiveled around to see his younger brother leering at him from his truck.

"How d'you know?"

"You pocketed the motel key," Sam said. "It's not like I didn't notice."

"Did you know you girlfriend's got recorders and shit? Typing things up?"

"Yeah, I do."

"She told you?" Dean asked.

"No, I put a Trojan on her computer, compliments of Charlie. It logs every keystroke and e-mails it to me," Sam replied. 

"Uh-huh," Dean said. 

"What were you gonna do exactly? Burst in and accuse her of something?"

"Pretty much."

"What is your problem?" Sam asked.

"My problem? Maybe this whole situation stinks. Her brain is being jacked by angels, maybe even by Satan. You really don't see that as a problem?"

"Her brain is being 'jacked' because of us, Dean!"

"What're you even talking about?"

"She wasn't having visions when we met in the summer. Okay? She started having them after..." Sam hesitated.

"After what?"

"After Cas healed her, saved her life. Some other dick angel came looking for him," Sam said, keeping his voice low. "Think about it, Dean. They know we won't be chummy when Heaven's gunning for Cas, so they figure they can beam messages down into someone's head. Someone that we know – "

"Like Charlie or Garth," Dean cut his brother off. "Who both of us know, Sammy, and both of us talk to. And, who both of us trust."

Sam bit the inside of his lip. "But Cas hasn't healed either one of them, not out in the open and recently, like he did for Dodge."

Silence passed as Dean continued to fume. 

"Dean, I like Dodge. A lot. So you might as well get used to her being around, because I want her around."

Dean didn't respond, so Sam changed topics. "I'm going to give Dodge my keys, in case she needs the truck. You're driving."

"I'm driving?" Dean echoed. "Where?"

"You said you wanted to talk to the parents, so let's go there."

"Fine," Dean said, "but hurry up."


	3. Now and Always

Castiel shifted through a pile of notes, searching for certain keywords.

A particular page captured his attention. Dozens of questions, all handwritten, were laid out across the page. All of them were question related to the soul. 

"RE: The power of the soul. Why can two souls make a new soul, yet two angels with all their Grace cannot make a new angel? How do vampires, werewolves, etc. claim a soul for Purgatory? What is the nature of Eve's affliction for the soul?"

The list went on and on. Castiel was mesmerized. 

"Cas," Kevin said approaching the baffled angel. "You find something?"

"Not related to the case," Cas said, but he didn't put the soul questions down.

Kevin became embarrassed. "That's nothing," he said.

"This is a list of philosophical questions related to the nature of the soul," Cas said. "And it is immensely interesting."

"It's just – the Demon Tablet, Angel Tablet, even the Leviathan Tablet – they all talk about the soul as if I know things already, and I don't."

"You think there is a Soul Tablet?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm just the worst prophet ever."

"Having seen all the prophets before you, I assure you, you deserve no such title. You are not only lucid and friendly as a human, but you seek knowledge without destroying yourself. In fact, I would suggest you are the best prophet yet."

"Thanks. But I think we really need to find something, Cas. For Sam and Dean."

"Of course."

 

Dean dropped heavily onto his own bed. He'd taken his own room at the same motel Sam stayed in; it just made sense.

Their entire day was a bust. The parents sobbed and said their little girl didn't have any enemies. Dean swiped her diary and found out she wasn't a virgin anymore, but other than that, there was nothing.

Sam's angle on the horses proved that she hadn't ridden recently, so maybe whatever it was took the form of a horse. That'd narrow down the search. 

Turning up bumpkins? Never a good sign. Sam's new girlfriend? Also never a good sign. Seriously, ever since Jessica, Sam only picked monsters. He walked away from Sarah and wound up sleeping with a werewolf instead. Sure, he thought she was cured at the time, but still! Madison was a monster. Then Ruby. God knows who Sam screwed when he was a soulless dick. And then there was Amelia. She was human, and maybe even a good woman, but Sam shacked up with her instead of looking for Dean. 

Dean's stomach dropped as he remembered that Naomi had messed with Sam's brain.

The only good thing about Dodge was that she was painfully human, but she was heaven's little vision-receiving bitch and FBI. Two solid reasons not to trust her, so of course Sam fell for her. 

Dean fumed over his brother more than the lack of direction on the case.

 

_The thirst dragged her down and pulled her apart. She was hungry, and heat drew her in. A young woman with pale eyes walked by, and her heartbeat echoed loudly. Ravenous and malevolent, she sprinted toward a young woman and leapt on her –_

_Pain, agony, and the horrific sound of snapping –_

Dodge managed to catch her breath, certain she'd just experienced decapitation. She ran her hand across her neck.

"Dodge," Sam whispered. He was right next to her, but she hadn't noticed until he spoke. "What was that?"

"I – uh, dunno," she said. "It was so – I – "

"Here," Sam gave her some water. "Drink. Breathe. Take your time."

She gulped down water, and the visceral sensation of swallowing blood flashed through her sense memory, making her gag.

"I think my vision was about – a vampire?" Dodge said. "I got my head cut off."

"As a vampire?" Sam asked.

"Yes," she said. "I attacked a young girl. I recognized her, I think, but before I could attack her, my head was cut off."

"So you were the vampire in this vision?" Sam asked. "Aren't you usually someone else? Other than the monster?"

"One time I was you."

"Okay, but whatever did the drowning last night wasn't a vampire. You think there's a connection?"

"I have no idea," Dodge replied. "But, I don't know if I can stay here."

"What, what do you mean?"

"I mean, I've gotta really bad feeling about staying here alone."

"Okay, then, you should come with us – "

"Not a good idea."

"Dodge, what's up?" Sam asked. "You can tell me, okay? I mean this could just be the aftermath of the vision."

"No, no, this is something – it's bad whatever it is," she said. "Someone's looking for you. And he's getting angry he can't find you. It's like that feeling you get when someone walks over your grave. I felt that right before I got shot on the job five years ago, and ever since then, I pay attention. And I'm getting it loud and clear."

"Because of the vampire?"

"No, separate thing," she said. "I - can't explain it. And I gotta say, I kinda feel like my marbles are spilling – "

"Hey, stop," Sam interrupted. "I used to get visions, and they made me feel like I was going nuts, too."

"You did?"

"Not from angels," Sam said. "It was – a demon infected me with demon blood as an infant. It gave me some minor psychic powers, including dreams, visions."

"You don't have them anymore?"

"No," Sam replied. "My system was purged. And the powers went with it."

"Lucky you."

"Lucky me."

Dodge leaned her head into Sam's chest, and he wrapped himself around her. 

"I'm gonna call Cas, and he's gonna take you back to the Bunker," Sam said. "You'll be safe there."

"And what about you?" Dodge asked. 

"Don't worry. I've got Dean, I'll be fine."

"You sure he's not mad?" 

"He's absolutely pissed, but he'll get over it."

 

Dean's phone rang.

"What?" Dean said by way of greeting.

"Got another body. This one is out in New Haven, Missouri," Sam replied. "Meet you there?"

"Fine."

Dean hung up and sat back in the booth. He read over the data Kevin sent him before he opened his chat screen in exasperation. 

"Kev, you're killing me," Dean said. 

"What d'ya mean?" Kevin said from the other side of the screen. "It's definitely a Kelpie."

"But Kelpies drown you and slurp all your insides out. They don't stop at heart and lungs."

"Maybe there was something wrong with the body. Maybe she didn't taste good."

"You mean like a snobby monster?" Dean asked. "Nah, if its hungry, it'll eat."

"Maybe someone interrupted its meal."

"Okay, well, Sam said we have another body, so I'm heading out. You keep your nose clean, okay?"

"No problem."

 

 **New Haven, Missouri**. Sam arrived at the morgue first, and he assured the corner (Todd Sampson) that his partner would be along soon. 

"The body was found just after dawn?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, you guys are sure quick," Todd replied. "I barely finished the autopsy on him."

"We were working on a suspicious drowning case a few counties over." 

"Hello?" Dean's voice rang through the building.

"Agent Page! We're this way!" Sam shouted.

"Well, there you have it," Todd said as he unceremoniously presented the headless body. "John Doe."

"You haven't IDed him yet?" Dean asked.

"No luck. We think he might be a drifter," Todd said. The sound of a phone ringing caught his attention. "I better get that."

Dean was already looking at the head when Sam asked, "Did you check the teeth?"

The older Winchester used a steel instrument to open the man's mouth. The second pair of vampire teeth descended. 

"Huh," Dean huffed. 

"Vampire?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, but vamps don't drown people and then eat the heart and lungs. I'm pretty sure the other vic was killed by a Kelpie." 

"Dodge had a vision about this, and she was the vamp."

"She was the vamp?" Dean repeated. "What?"

"Yeah, I think we're out here looking for another hunter," Sam replied. 

"Why?" Dean asked. "Hunter taking care of business? Maybe send him a fruit basket, sure, but the guy doesn't seem to need an assist."

"Unless he does, and he doesn't know it."

Dean tilted his head, the spitting image of Castiel, except for the exasperating on his face. 

Todd returned from his phone call. "Sorry about that," he said. 

"What can you tell us?" Dean asked.

"Well, blood in his stomach, not his, B positive," he began. "And it looks like his heart hadn't been beating for days. His circulatory system was a catastrophe."

"You mean, antemortem?" Sam asked.

"Definitely. No idea how he stayed alive."

"Couldn't the damage have happened after death?" Dean asked.

"He was brought in almost immediately."

"He was?"

Todd's confusion became apparent. "You didn't read the report? This guy attacked three people, was shot four times, and kept going. Finally one of the sheriff's old buddies tracked him down – "

"And decapitated him?" Dean asked. "Little extreme, isn't it?"

"Four shots to the chest, and the guy was walking around," Todd said. "Pulled the slugs out myself. They hit his heart, lungs, stomach, diaphragm."

"So what's the theory?"

"Zombie Apocalypse. Evil dead rising. Crazy drug fiend."

"Any theory with evidence?" Sam asked. 

"Oh, sorry, no," Todd replied. "If this case wasn't a homicide, I'd be writing a paper."

"Right, thanks," Dean said. 

"Can we getta copy of the police report? We'll need to talk to the people who were attacked," Sam said simply.

"Uh, yeah, it's in my office," Todd replied.

"We can wait."

As Todd shuffled off, Sam collected some of John Doe's blood. 

"What's up?" Dean asked. 

"He could've turned them," Sam said. "We should make a reversal potion, just in case."

"You think of everything, don't you?"

Dean could handle his share of weird cases, and he could deal with another hunter if he had to. It was Sam's willingness to just take Dodge at face value that pissed him off. She told him something about being a vampire, and he just ran with it. Then, he roped Dean into helping without mentioning where the lead came from.

"Here you go," Todd said, returning with the police report. "I think all the victims are down at Oldfield General Hospital still."

The brothers left with a heavy stack of files. 

"When were you gonna tell me that this case came from Dodge?" Dean asked. "Would've been nice to know before I drove out here."

"I wasn't hiding it."

"We have a Kelpie kill a few counties over, so maybe we should just split up, each take a case."

"The cases are connected, Dean."

"Says Dodge."

"Says Kevin's mountains of research, dozens of hunter's journals – "

"And Dodge," Dean replied. 

"If another hunter is in danger, you're really going to wring your hands and do nothing?" Sam asked. "Just because you don't trust Dodge?"

"No, you don't get to do this Sam – "

"I don't?" Sam asked, finally letting his own frustrations break. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Uh, let's see, which one of us had their head broken by Castiel? Me. Which one of us nearly died because of that? Oh, right, me! And which one of us is currently – "

"Don't lump Cas into this," Dean interrupted. 

"Why not?" Sam asked. "I have plenty of reason not to trust him, don't I? He broke Purgatory open. He lied to us for months. But I let all of that go, Dean! And it wasn't for his sake. It was for yours."

"Don't give me that crap."

"Give you what? The truth?" Sam asked. "Because even when Lucifer was driving me out of my gourd, I could see how much you needed Cas around. How much you missed him. Fuck, you kept his bloody, mangled coat in the trunk for months. So when he did come back, I decided it was a good thing. Even if he was bat shit crazy. Because you needed him. And I thought to myself, maybe I should put my petty bullshit aside and let Dean be happy."

"Really? That's what you thought?"

"Cas already said he'd wipe her memory if she tried to turn on us. And you're making it pretty clear that you're not willing to give her a chance – "

"Can't you fucking see? This is Ruby all over again!" Dean finally yelled back.

"Well, if that's the case, then this next part is right in line," Sam said. 

He got into his truck and peeled away.


	4. Come to Me

_Freedom breezed through her hair. It wasn't like anything else she'd ever experienced. She was uninhibited and happy and warm, higher than a kite._

_The horse's legs buckled from underneath her, and she was sent flying into the air, crashing down near the banks of the river. She turned to see a young woman attempt to tame the horse, which had its forelegs tangled in some kind of whip. The equine screamed, and its eyes burned red-green as the woman impaled it with a spear._

_"Sam? Sam? Shit, are you okay?" Dean asked her. She looked into his eyes and saw his concern._

_"Run!" the young woman screamed. "I can't hold it!"_

_Dean spun around in time to see the equine crash into his body and throw him into the water, blood dripping down his face as the monstrosity leapt in after him._

_"Dean!" she screamed. "DEAN!"_

Dodge fell off the couch, screaming Dean's name. Her brain was foggy, and everything was spinning. Where was she? Who was she? She needed to get back to Sam and Dean. She must have been Sam in that vision...

Castiel approached her and asked, "Are you all right?"

"No, uh, I just saw – Dean was run down by something, and Sam – they were both in bad shape."

"Do you think this is a future event?" Castiel asked.

"Yes, I need to call him," she said, but her hands shook too much to dial.

"Let me," Cas said, taking the phone.

 

Sam arrived at Oldfield General Hospital about an hour after his argument with Dean. He brewed the Vampire-Reversal Potion because he knew his brother would rather drive across the state to search for that Kelpie than continue working a lead from Dodge, even if they could prevent someone from turning full vamp. 

Dean compared Dodge to _Ruby_. Every time Sam thought of that, his blood boiled. 

He made a point to calm himself down before heading in. John Doe Vampire attacked three people: Jaydon Showalter, Neil Bergman, and Katie Boling. All three of them were held at the hospital for observation.

"Agent Hoffer," Sam said, flashing his badge to the nurse behind the desk. "I need to speak with some of your patients."

"Uh, someone else is already in talking with them," the nurse replied. 

"Uh," Sam spotted her nametag, "Mr. Starling?"

"Russ," the nurse said casually. 

"Russ, is it another FBI Agent? Agent Page?" Sam asked, surprised at how hopeful he was that his brother turned up.

"No, it's Jac Burdick, one of the sheriff's guys. She's the one who saved them from that lunatic."

"Oh, right, do you know which room she's in?"

"Jaydon's room," Russ replied. "One-oh-three."

"Thanks."

Luckily, room one hundred and three was around the corner from the main desk, so Sam could wait outside the room and listen to the conversation without looking like Sketchy McSketcherson. 

"I mean, how do you feel?" a woman asked. Sam guessed that was Jac speaking.

"The lights are too bright, and I can hear... so much. It hurts," a man replied. 

"I gotta take a breather, but I'll be right back, okay? Don't go anywhere, Jaydon."

"Where am I gonna go?" Jaydon asked, laughing. "Trust me, I'll be right here." 

Soon Jac came out of the room with bitterness etched into every feature on her face. 

"Hi," Sam said casually. 

"Who're you?" Jac asked.

"Agent Hoffer, FBI," Sam said. "To everyone else. To you? I'm Sam."

"And why's that?"

"The questions you were asking," Sam said. "Sounds like you're worried the vamp you capped infected Jaydon."

Jac's features became skeptical, and as her guard went up, Sam could actually feel the tension escalate.

"I came here on the same job," Sam continued. 

"Good, because I've known these people since they were kids, and I can't..." Jac stopped and swallowed hard. "I can't do what needs to be done. All of them, they're all... it's too late for all of them."

"Maybe not."

"You just said you knew about this stuff."

"I do. You've kept an eye on them since they came here?"

"Yes."

"Any of them fed?"

"Of course not!"

"Then we can save them."

Sam could tell Jac wanted to believe it, but she held back. It probably sounded too good to be true. 

"How?"

"This," Sam showed her the potion. "There's more than enough for three. I got the blood of the maker from John Doe at the morgue."

"You're not real FBI are you?"

"I'm here to help."

"I've heard that before."

"What's the worse that can happen?" Sam asked. "Right now, you're looking at three new vamps waiting on their first meal. Doesn't get worse than that, right?"

"Fine, let's say I believe you," Jac said. "I've never seen you before. How did you get here?"

Sam decided on honesty. He replied, "I was working on a drowning case over in Boonville when I caught wind of this. Usually vamps come in a nest, thought I should check it out."

"How did you know it was a vampire?" 

"The teeth."

"Before you got here," Jac pushed.

"I have a friend who gets information. Dreams," Sam admitted. "And that's all I'm going to say about it."

"All right, then tell me about this," she said, pointing to the potion.

"It'll reverse the effects so long as they haven't fed. You think you can get them to drink it?"

"Does it taste good?"

"Not sure, but my guess is no."

"Good, they'll believe it's medicine," Jac said.

 

Jac didn't have any trouble getting them to drink the reversal potion, which said quite a lot about her abilities, since it tasted like blood and herbs and none of them knew they were proto-vampires. Afterward, she refused to leave until all the vamp signs were gone from her friends. 

Jac was the kind of hunter Sam could get on board with. Dean would probably like her, except that she met Sam first, and therefore would be classified as "like Ruby" along with Dodge.

They met in the parking lot a few hours later. Sam noticed her car, an old Taurus, was a pigsty. One more thing Dean would hold against her. 

"So," she said. "I guess I owe you."

"No," Sam said. "Just doing my job."

"I hate to ask for any more, but, the reason this happened, that I missed this vamp? I was tracking a Kelpie."

"The drowning victim?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Jac replied. "And I've come to the conclusion you can't kill it alone. I've failed three times already, and the last time someone died."

"Okay, so what do you need?" Sam asked.

"Well I've got a bridle that's been cleansed with Holy Oil. Once you bridle it, the Kelpie becomes a normal horse, harmless, and much easier to kill," she explained. "Nearly impossible to do when the thing is free."

"You failed three times?"

"I can't just approach the damn thing, or I'll fall under its spell. I tried shields and hex bags, but it either takes off when I approach or it tries to trample me."

"So you need bait?"

"No, hell no," Jac said. "I need a hunting partner. Someone who can drive it into a trap. It runs from you, I snag it, bridle it, stab it. Viola!"

"How do I keep it from trampling me?"

"You're big."

Sam laughed, "Okay, but I've need to fill my partner in."

"I've still gotta track the sucker," she said. "I managed to interrupt its feeding, so it'll have to attack again tonight."

"Give me a place to meet you, and I'll be there."

Jac's phone rang. "Sorry," she said to Sam. She turned into her phone, "Hi, sweetie. Yeah, I'm good. Are you sure? Because – okay, okay, I'm on my way."

"Everything okay?"

"Family," Jac replied. "Gotta bring home a prescription. Can I get your number?"

 

"Hello?" Dean said into the phone.

"Dean?" Cas said. 

"What's up? You have a line on this Kelpie?"

"Where is Sam?"

"He's working a vamp case a few counties over."

"He won't pick up the phone," Cas said. "We've called over and over again."

"Haven't tried," Dean replied curtly. 

"You need to find him, he's in trouble," Cas said. 

"How do you know?"

"Dodge had a vision."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course she did."

"Dean, if she's right, Sam will fall under the spell of the Kelpie, and you die trying to save him."

"What?" Dean asked, panic building up in his stomach.

"I believe I can assist you," Cas said. "But I've never dealt with a Kelpie before."

"Okay, well, his GPS is turned on, I can track him," Dean replied. He hated himself for asking, but he did anyway. "Day or night?"

"Sorry?"

"Did Dodge's vision occur at night or during the day?"

"Dusk," Cas replied. "She saw it happening at dusk."

That gave Dean two hours to find Sam and get his ass to safety. It would have to do. 

"Okay, he's about an hour drive from me," Dean said. "I'll call you when I know more."

Cas said, "Dean." His voice was painfully sweet. 

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Be careful, please."

"I will man, I promise."

 

Sam couldn't find his main phone, but it was somewhere in the car because it kept ringing. He held his secondary phone, the one he used as Agent Hoffer, waiting for Jac's reply. He hovered over Dean's number for a good five minutes, but he decided against calling his brother. It didn't feel right, but Sam got some satisfaction over his choice to work a case without Dean.

Sam received a text message from Jac: MY CAR IS BUSTED. CAN YOU PICK ME UP? @ 2341 RIDGEWOOD CIRCLE.

Sam replied: BE THERE IN 10.

The drive actually took about five minutes. He pulled up outside an older-looking stone cottage. It had a garden in the front and was clearly well cared for. 

An older woman, maybe in her seventies, strolled in the garden. Jac appeared out of nowhere and guided the woman to the front door. They had a brief conversation before the older woman went inside and shut the door. 

Sam flashed his high beams, thinking the horn would be too much. It did the trick. Jac hurried over with a small duffle bag. 

"Sweet truck," she said.

"Thanks," Sam replied. "Was that your mom?"

"That's Stacy," Jac said. "She... well, she's family."

"I know that feeling," Sam said. "Set belt?"

Jac laughed. "We're gonna truss up a Kelpie, and you care about set belts."

"Before we do anything, we gotta get there in one piece. You know where this thing is?"

"Yeah, I tracked it, it's about thirty minutes from here, by the river."

"You've got a special trick?"

"Monster radar."

 

"Sammy," Dean said into his phone. "Listen. Dodge had another vision, and your meat is in the furnace, so whatever you're doing, stop. Call me. This Kelpie thing is bad news."

After a few seconds of silence he said, "I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I mean that."

According to the GPS, Sam was on the road, heading away from Dean's position. Dean dropped his phone and hit the gas. He needed to catch up.

 

"I got a hex bag for you," Jac said. "It should protect you from the Kelpie's spell."

"Should?"

"Hopefully we won't even have to test it, because it'll run from you when it sees the spear I'm gonna give you. If you can hit it in the heart with this, go for it."

"You said it was impossible to kill it without the bridle."

"I also make it a point never to underestimate dumb luck. If you get a shot, take it. Worst case, you miss, and then we'll just follow the original plan. You chase it away from the water toward the tree line, and I'll bridle it. Then killing it will be no problem."

"Kelpies only drown those who ride them," Sam said. "So as long as I don't try to ride it – "

Jac interrupted, "The lure of the Kelpie is very strong. That's why you need the hex bag. Oh, and we're here."

Sam pulled up to the edge of a fence, and for the first time his instincts told him this wasn't a good idea. 

"Missouri River access here," Jac said. "Follow me."

 

Dean spotted Sam's truck from the road, so he parked the Impala behind it. 

"Cas, it's me, I found Sam's truck. Can you get my location from the GPS in my phone?"

"I'll be there shortly."

Dean grabbed a shotgun from the back seat and headed to the fence's gate. It was almost dusk.

 

Sam followed Jac's instructions. He walked along the bank of the river, checking inland for any sight of a horse. The younger Winchester wished he had taken the time to research more himself. Jac might be a proven hunter, but plenty of hunters took unnecessary risks. The situation made him think about the story of his father and Ellen's husband. John Winchester baited a trap and failed his friend. 

A beautiful chestnut stallion interrupted his thoughts. It grazed peacefully. Sam always liked horses but never had much chance to interact with them. He approached it slowly, careful not to spook it.

Something reminded him that this could be the Kelpie, which meant he should be wary. It was like a nagging voice in his head, repeating the same warning over and over again: "Never trust an unknown horse."

In his head, the voice was Dean's. 

Dean, telling him they'd have to kill Madison if they can't cure her. Dean, reminding him he should never trust Ruby. Dean, bitching that he spent a year with Amelia instead of looking for his own brother. Dean, saying Dodge couldn't be trusted. Dean, saying even this horse was a bad idea.

Sam realized the hex bag Jac made for him was clutched in his fist. He threw it into the woods, and his mind became settled and silent. 

Finally, he was free of his brother's ignorance.

The stallion was gorgeous and unafraid of Sam. He touched the horse's nose and it closed its dark, wonderful eyes. What was there to be afraid of? Sam hadn't ridden much in his life, but he had no issue getting onto the horse at all. For the first time in months, he found himself happy and carefree. 

The wind passed through him as the stallion began to gallop.


	5. Lay Me Down

Dean spotted Sam just as he mounted the Kelpie, which was easily the stupidest thing he'd done this week. 

Dean ran for it, knowing he was being foolish, knowing he couldn't outrun a horse. Where the hell was Cas?

The Kelpie suddenly jerked, its legs buckling, and Sam went flying. Some chick with a spear moved in on the horse, so Dean focused on his brother. He rushed over to Sam as the stranger impaled the Kelpie.

"Sam? Sam? Shit, are you okay?" 

"Run!" the stranger screamed. "I can't hold it!" 

Dean spun around to see the equine bolting right for them.

Bang! Bang! Bang! 

Three shots from a glock hit the Kelpie in the chest. Dodge and Cas stood on the bank of the river, blocking the way to the water.

"Dean!" Sam screamed. "DEAN!"

The Kelpie reared up, its blood sprayed everywhere, and kicked Dean hard in the shoulder, throwing him backwards. Pain tentacled throughout his body as he landed in the river. 

"Dean!" Sam yelled. 

"I'll get him," the angel said, jumping in after Dean.

The Kelpie retreated to the woods. 

"Sam! We gotta kill this thing!" Jac yelled. 

Sam stumbled to his feet, free of the Kelpie's spell, and joined Dodge as she raced after Jac. 

"Dodge, you shouldn't be out here," he panted.

"What? And let your brother die by Kelpie? He'd never let me hear the end of it!" 

They found Jac and the Kelpie circling each other in a small clearing. Sam unceremoniously shoved his spear into its hindquarters. Jac, taking a leaf from Sam's book, jabbed her spear into its forelimbs. 

The Kelpie's eyes burned red, then green, then blue as it wailed in pain. Jac used another spear to pin its neck to a tree, and the lame monster bellowed in and roared. Its beautiful chestnut features retreated, replaced by squid-like limbs. 

Jac fumbled with the bridle. Dodge took the other end of it to help untangle it. With that, Jac made her move, and the beast tangled itself up in Jac, its octopus-like tentacles writhing in pain. 

Once bridled, the Kelpie became still and peaceful, and its features returned to equine, except it was a shabby old horse with a muted gray tone. 

"You need to get your friend out of the river," Jac said. "I can handle this."

Dodge offered her arm, and Sam took it before they ran back to the riverside.

 

Castiel never feared the water. He could safely traverse the bottom of the ocean, should he so choose. But in this moment, water was the single most terrifying element in the known universe. Dean slipped beneath the river's current, and the angel couldn't get a good grip on him. The Kelpie's kick had done more than injure Dean, it transferred its perverse spell, dug its hooks into him, and now Dean was letting go, willing to die - 

No, Cas wouldn't let his hunter die. 

He plunged down until he was beneath Dean's body, and he seized Dean with his arms and legs, encasing his entire body. As the last bit of air Dean had bubbled out of his mouth, Castiel teleported them back to the riverbank. 

Dean vomited violently, but he didn't get up. He was weak, as if he were still drowning.

"Cas!" Sam yelled. "You got him."

"Something's wrong, I can't heal him," Cas said. He tried to keep his head, but the thought of losing Dean overwhelmed him. "Dean, Dean!" 

"What's up?"

"I can't – did you kill the Kelpie?"

"Jac said she got it, it should be dead by now," Sam said.

Dodge spoke up, "I'll stay with him, you two go help Jac."

Sam was ready to run, but Castiel took him by the sleeve and teleported. 

"There," Sam said, catching sight of Jac.

She had already speared the thing's heart, and it was going through its final death throws. Something odd was happening, though. Jac's jaw jutted forward, revealing long, fang-like teeth. She closed in on the Kelpie's face and a glowing white something came out of the horse's eyes. 

In the next instant, the Kelpie transformed into a human. It was Jerry Hyatt, the coroner from Boonville. 

"You were working with that thing?"

"She – she was the one who killed the vamp and made a cover story," Sam whispered. "I thought she was a hunter."

Castiel drew his blade.

"I am a hunter," Jac said, apparently able to hear them.

"You're a Crocotta!" Cas said. 

"You're just like all the others," she replied. "You think because I'm not human I must be a monster."

Cas revved up his power, producing white light a revealing his wings. "I am no human," he said, his voice hugely echoing. "But I kill monsters."

"Cas," Sam said. "Check on Dean. If he's okay, take him and Dodge somewhere safe."

"But - "

"I can handle a Crocotta," Sam said. "And you just threw off a crap load of angel juice. Dean'll kill me if you get captured."

Cas nodded and disappeared.

Sam took out his long knife. 

"You're going to kill me?" Jac asked. "Why?"

"You're a monster," Sam said. He didn't say that he resented Dean being right about strangers in the supernatural world. No matter how good they appear to be, they can't be trusted, not at all.

"I'm a hunter," she said. "I've been protecting this river since before you were born, kid."

"You're, what, twenty? Thirty?"

"Seventy-seven," she replied. 

"So what? You save a few people by killing monsters. That doesn't change what you are."

"I've never killed a person, a human," she said. "Can you say the Sam?"

Sam's stomach dropped. "You're lying."

"I'm not," she replied. "I can't prove it, but nevertheless, it's true."

"Isn't it your thing to whisper 'Come to me' till someone is led astray?" Sam spoke to give himself time to cover the distance between them. 

"Do you know what it is to be a monster like that?" she asked. "To be so alone that you lead others to their own deaths? My mother did that. My father, too, I imagine, I never knew him. When she left me so I could feed, she told me never to trust anyone, never to get close to anyone. She told me you were food, nothing more. You get them to come to you, and you swallow them. That is the only reward life can give you, your fill. The rest of the time, I was only allowed to hide in the darkness, to shun others, to hate others."

"And you, what, had a change of heart one day? Couldn't eat some cute kid that wandered into your path?" Sam mocked.

"I've never swallowed the soul of a human," she said. "Because I didn't listen to my mother."

"That so?"

"I moved into Arrow Rock," Jac said. "And new parents took me in, gave me a better name. Showed me how to hunt."

"A monster with hunter parents?"

"I sought them out. Told them something killed my parents," she said. "And then I had a real family."

"Sure you did."

"That woman you saw? Stacy?"

"Let me guess, your fake mom?"

"No, my adopted mother died thirty years ago. Stacy is my sister-in-law. I married her brother forty years ago. He died last year. Now I watch over her children, and when they die, I'll watch over her children's children."

"You can't expect me to believe any of this," Sam said, narrowing his approach. 

"Dozens of hunters have come to my home, this part of the river," she said. "And I helped them. I helped them exorcise demons, kill vampires, slay dragons – "

"Please," Sam cut her off. "I don't believe you. You feed. You can't control that."

"I don't have to," Jac replied. "Monsters like vampires are drawn to places with easy feeding. No place better than up and down the less populated areas of the Missouri River? I'm never for want of a monster's soul, and my kind only needs to feed once a year. I'm not a vampire, not a Rugaru, my hunger doesn't keep me isolated in the shadows, desperate to feed."

"Sam, stop!" Dean yelled from the trees. 

Sam cursed his brother's timing, as it gave Jac the chance to zip out of his reach, regaining the distance between them.

"What the hell, Dean?"

"She's not lying," Dean said. "Cas and Kev said Jac was named in pretty much every hunter's journal. They didn't think it was the same person before, but a few of them had pictures, photos. It's her."

"So you're willing to believe this thing isn't killing people?" Sam asked. 

"Crazier things have happened."

"You won't trust Dodge, but you'll trust a Crocotta?" 

"I'm standing right here," Jac interjected. 

"I was wrong. About Dodge," Dean admitted. "She saved my ass and yours too tonight, and she came out here and risked her own life to do it."

"That doesn't mean Jac gets a pass," Sam said.

Dean didn't have evidence, and he didn't have a history with Jac, but he'd learned more than once before that sometimes trust doesn't hurt. 

"No, but there's no evidence she's killed either," Dean said. "Not a human, anyway."

"You're willing to let her go?"

"We let Lenore go. And that werewolf, Kate. And Benny. And Amy's son. We let him go even though he's a kitsune. Not all of them are monsters, Sam. You're the one who taught me we don't kill someone unless they've done something to get killed for."

Sam recognized the odd reversal of roles. He was caught between his resentment of Jac's secret identity and his brother's sudden one-eighty on the subject of killing any monster alive. 

Sam stowed his knife. "We know where you are now," Sam said. "And we won't hesitate to come back here if there's any sign – "

"There won't be," she interrupted. "This is my home, and my family lives all long this river. That's why I protect it. And, there's something you should know. For the last two months, there've been monsters crawling along here than any other time in the past fifty years."

"Why do we care?" Sam asked.

"It means something's happening," Jac said. "And it's nothing good. Either lone monsters are getting bolder, or they're scared of something much worse. Either way, it's bad news for hunters. I just thought you should know."

Then Jac disappeared between the trees.

 

Dean came into Sam's motel room as he packed.

"I was wrong about Dodge," Dean said. "In a big way."

"I know." 

"And before... what I said – "

"You mean when you lorded Ruby over my head, again," Sam cut in. 

"Yeah, then, I was just... you're my little brother. You deserve to be happy, and I don't want to see you with anyone who can hurt you."

"Right."

"And I guess I'm a little wary of FBI Agents, but she's clearly not gonna burn us. And I'm sorry for what I said," he finished lamely. 

"Dean," Sam said. "This isn't just about Dodge, okay? This is about how every mistake I make just keeps coming back to give you an excuse to not trust me."

"That's not fair – "

"No, it's not fair," Sam interrupted. "For me. You sold your soul, then lied to me about it. Then you pulled suicidal I've-got-no-time-left crap for almost a year before admitting you didn't want to die. Then you broke the first seal in hell – "

"What do you want me to say?" Dean yelled. "I can't change the past!"

"Neither can I," Sam said, lowering his voice. "That's why I let that shit go, Dean. I don't call you out for it for leverage every time I disagree with you. I don't rub your nose in it. All I want is for you to do the same. Trust that I've learned from my mistakes."

Dean hadn't really been able to let go of any of that stuff, and he had conveniently forgotten most of his own missteps. At least, he'd forgiven himself for most of them. 

"It might be a bad day when the older brother wants to be like his younger brother, letting things go," Dean said. "But it's a good day when one good man wants to be like another."

Dean realized the crap that just came out of his mouth made him sound ridiculous, but Sam looked genuinely surprised. Then he laughed. 

"I appreciate what you mean," Sam said, "but you sound like a friggin' fortune cookie."

 

"No, no," Cas said. "You need to find purchase before you try to flip me, otherwise I'll keep you pinned."

"Cas, I can't breathe!" Kevin cried. 

"Oh, sorry," the angel said, letting up on his hold on Kevin. "Forgot."

As soon as he shifted weight, Kevin rocked forward, putting Cas into an arm bar and then rolling over to pin the angel. 

"That was deceptive," Cas remarked.

"You're an angel-of-the-freaking-Lord," Kevin said. "I'm a scrawny prophet. Deceit will be used as leverage wherever necessary."

"Hell yeah," Dean said from the doorway. 

"Dean," Castiel stood up. "You're home."

"Yeah, and I thought maybe you and Kevin could use a little help with training," Dean said. "Maybe on the firing range?"

 

Sam knocked on Dodge's door in the Bunker. 

"Come in."

"How're you feeling?" he asked as he entered and closed the door behind him.

"Better," she said. "Sorry if I freaked you out with my... weird vibe or whatever it was."

"Don't be sorry," Sam said. "You saved our asses."

"Yeah, but – "

"No buts." 

Sam sat next to her on the bed, and she took his hand. 

"Dean came to see me," she said. "Said that he never met such a good shot. That's gotta be a lie."

"That's his way of apologizing for, well, being Dean."

"I get it," she said. "If I had a brother, I'd want to protect him, too."

"Dodge, I know you had a life, before all this, and I want to tell you that you can go back, but... we've made that promise before, to people like Kevin, and – "

"I don't think I want my old life back," she interrupted. "It was fine, I guess. I worked my ass off to put some people away, and every once and a while I thought I was making a difference. Most of the time, though, I wound up sticking it to good people, or couldn't get the collar on some jackass. Maybe it's not traditional. I mean I'm hiding in the Bunker of a secret society somewhere with an angel, a prophet, and two brothers. And I'm getting visions that terrify me. But I've been able to save more people in the past six months than I have in my entire career because of those visions. So what's a little terror for that?"

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Sam replied. He didn't mean to say it; it just slipped out.

"And it's not like saving people is the only thing in my life."

This wasn't smart, and she knew that. Working with someone like Sam Winchester – a man who has been pronounced dead twice, who lives with angels and prophets – that was one thing. Falling for him was spectacularly stupid. 

Sam's lips met hers, and all her worries about a relationship or connection with Sam Winchester dissolved. He was a good person, and all her life she'd been waiting for someone like him.

She let go of his hand and slid it under his shirt, rolling her fingertips over his collarbone. Her other arm was around his waist. Sam's hand cupped her cheek as his tongue darted into her mouth, just delicate enough to be sexy. Her body tensed in expectation, culminating in a moan.

Sam had forgotten what it was like to be with someone, and he'd never been with anyone this openly. He either lied about his past or left because of his present, but with Dodge, she knew him. Knew how damaged he was. Knew how much danger loomed over him, and she was in his arms just the same. 

He unbuttoned her shirt and kissed down her cheek to her neck, pushing the collar out of the way. Her left leg rubbed against his side, and it drew his right hand. The sound of her breathing pushed his heart rate, and he gently bit into the nape of her neck, then down to her collarbone. All the while her hand tangled in his hair, and she pulled him back into a long kiss as she dragged him on top of her in the bed.

His flannel shirt was gone, and Dodge could feel his erection on her inner thigh as he shifted his weight. She lifted his undershirt off, revealing his incredible pecs and abs. 

His knee worked its way up between her legs, and he slowly pressed up, rubbing against her clit and drawing another moan from her lips. He leaned his forehead against hers, and he stared into her dark brown eyes.

She reached up and placed a kiss on his neck, then his chest, and as she worked her way down, her hands undid the fly of his jeans. Dodge nipped at his hipbones as she pulled his pants down. 

He swept her up in a kiss and rolled so she was on top while he shucked his jeans. Dodge straddled him, and Sam make quick work of her pants, tossing them carelessly away. 

Her skin on his was enough to make him moan, but as she bit into his neck and sucked, he bucked up, his mind and body desperately wanting to be inside, to hear her come, to feel her body writhe in pleasure – 

"Sam," she moaned, bringing her hands up his back and drawing herself in. She was wet, and her wet and his precum already leaked through their underwear. 

Sam loved the smell of it, but he needed to know. "You want to stop?" he asked, his heart pounding and his dick throbbing. 

She reached behind herself and unclasped her own bra. "Not even a little bit," she said. "Please tell me you don't either."

That obliterated his reservations. 

"Never," he whispered, tossing her bra. First a kiss, then a wet kiss, then he started down her neck. It was an awkward position, since he was taller than she was, but he didn't care. He gently sucked on one nipple, then the other, drawing out soft moans of his name.

Somehow Dodge sneaked her hand down into his boxers. Her fingers explored his erection, padding across his girth, then wrapping around the base and slowly moving up. The friction was enough to send him through the roof, even though all she did was slowly work him up and down. Her thumb rubbed over the tip of his cock, and he bucked, hard, nearly throwing her off. Sam stared apologetically into her eyes, but she was smiling. Her hand was now wet from him, and she wrapped it around him again. This time, her hand twisted as she moved up and down, and Sam sighed into her shoulder.

"Dodge," he panted. Her smile was playful, devious even, and all he wanted to do was feel her body against his – 

Sam rolled over, pushing her down into the bed. He drank her in. Her smell, her taste, her reddening skin, her long, brown hair. All of her. With his left arm, he gently pinned her arms above her head, and his right hand slid between her legs, slowly rubbing soft circles into her inner thighs. 

Dodge couldn't take it. She tried to move her hips down so she could grind on his hand, "Sam – " she moaned. "Sam – "

He let her arms go and caressed her face before drawing her into another kiss. He didn't need a written invitation. He tugged her underwear off and kissed her inner thighs before he pushed her legs apart.

Dodge got the hint and lifted her knees, letting her legs fall open for him, and his tongue was ready. He darted it over her clit, licked her labia, and then back again. She tasted as good as she smelled, and he maneuvered his tongue in and out, in and out.

Her blood was boiling, and her body was on fire. Sam wasn't teasing, she could tell, but if he kept what he was doing, she wasn't going to last long. And she wanted to last. 

"Sam – " she moaned again.

Two of his fingers went inside, curling up, hitting some spot inside her that actually make her buckle then buck. Then his tongue started across her clit again. It took only a moment before she was gone, her body tensing in orgasm, screaming his name – 

It took her a minute to regain her composure. Sam was lying next to her naked body, his heat radiating like a furnace, and he was just there, stroking her stomach and thighs, as if the night was over. She didn't want it to be over.

So she threw her far leg over his outer thigh, yanked him back on top of her into a long kiss, and wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling his erection dangerously close through his boxers. 

"Dodge – " he sighed, "I – "

"Bedside drawer," she said, as if reading his mind. 

Sam was so tall he didn't have to move to reach the drawer, and when he pulled it open he saw all it contained was a clip for her glock and a stack of condoms.

He grabbed one and opened it with his teeth, but as much as he needed to put it on, he didn't want to move away, but before he could think anymore, Dodge took the condom out of his hand and shimmed down his body, dropping her legs to wrap around his. A shock of cold air met his painfully hard erection as she dropped his boxers, and she rolled the condom on. 

In his many sexual exploits, never once had a woman done this, and for some reason, it was the single sexiest he'd ever experienced. 

Sam drew her to the top of the bed, covering every inch of her body with his. Her legs wrapped around the small of his back and wavered down to his hips. Kiss, kiss, and teeth and tongue. Then he leaned on his elbows, and knees, angling, and broke apart their kiss to breathe.

"Sam," she whispered, pressing her hips up into him.

He sank into her, slowly, feeling her muscular legs clasp around him, trying to drive him deeper. The wet kiss smacked apart as they both moaned and sighed into it.

He pulled back, then sank in again, just a little deeper. He wanted her scent to be all over him tomorrow, wanted her to remember his body against hers. Deeper. And deeper. And deeper. And deeper. She met his thrust with her own, and his hands caressed her everywhere. He couldn't settle on just touching, he had to explore every inch of skin. He wanted to know want made her buck, what made her sigh, what made her scream.

And her hands were everywhere. She worked over the tightness in his shoulders hard with her thumbs and fingertips. She found the one spot in his lower back that always kept too much tension, and somehow she unwound it. His body jutted forward again and again.

Dodge could tell Sam was holding back. Maybe he didn't know he was doing it, or maybe he was afraid he'd hurt her. She shifted her weight, moving her legs to one side, and Sam nearly fell into her panting her name. 

"Dodge, what – oh, God, Dodge – " was all he could get out of his mouth. She twisted her legs back the other way, so every thrust made him weak and at the same time pushed him right up to the edge. He was going to come soon, so he grinded his hips down to rub her clit between them.

"Sam – " she repeated as she climaxed again. Feeling her climax, her clenching, her entire body gyrating under him –

He collapsed as he came, hard and fast, with her name over his lips. 

Suddenly everything was soft and comforting and light. Dodge's head was on his chest, and her eyes fluttered shut. He wanted nothing more than to watch her sleep, and soon was overtaken by dreams as well.


End file.
